It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said 'Bother!' and 'O blow!' and also 'Hang spring-cleaning!' and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.

------------ Kenneth Grahame

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Camassia Preserve

The shallow soils of this rocky plateau support wet meadows, Oregon white oak-madrone woodlands, vernal and permanent ponds, and even a stand of quaking aspen.

I find my sonat the brink of the dell,sitting on the bare gray stone.Below is a firepit,unsanctioned, no doubt.For a moment eveningtakes my imagination, and I see the restless teenagers, the flaring light, the dares;they know this place is sacredbut no one has taught themwhat to do with sacred places.They can only improvise.

But here in the strongbut failing sunare only blackened rocks;my son with his long thick hair,his steady kindness, hisgrace; he is indulging usby going on this walk, buthe cheerfullymakes a virtue of all necessities.We leave this to you, allthis beauty and confusion.We're sorry it could not be more,that we could not hand youa confident future.